Tales From an Ordinary Life
by Fabius Maximus
Summary: After the fire and thunder comes the quiet of an ordinary life. For many heroes, it is a gift beyond compare, but it brings challenges of its own-Challenges that can't be defeated by a sword or magic spell... Snippets set post Season 3, with spoilers for Trollhunters, focusing on the characters life after Arcadia.
1. Chapter 1

June quickly bicycled up to the house. Mom and Dad had bought a house in the suburbs by one the large parks where Dad would quickly be able to get to work if he was needed. But right now, the house was dark.

 _Oh Good, maybe they_ _'_ _re both late and nobody will realize I'm totally_ beyond _late._

She quickly opened the door with her key and snuck in. June took a deep breath of relief—

—and then one of mom's portals opened up and mom appeared. She stared at June, face white, then took a deep breath.

"Oh, thank God," she breathed, her voice a near whisper. Then, louder, "June, where _were_ you?"

"I was just out with my friends," June said. _Why does mom look like she_ _'_ _s about to faint?_ Mom didn't _do_ scared. Not even when that angry troll had shown up at their front door, demanding Dad come out and fight him. Mom had just smiled, then opened a portal to the East River and used the spray of water to hose the troll down the street and kept spraying him until he calmed down.

"You're _five hours_ past your curfew!" Mom said. "Didn't you think to call?"

"I… Um forgot?" June said, rubbing one of her small horns. She'd thought about calling to say that they'd missed the first showing of the movie, but then she'd been talking to Marcie and after that they were in the movie and then…

 _Well, You sort of hoped that they didn_ _'_ _t know you were late._ Sometimes Mom and Dad worked late. Calling them would have defeated the purpose of hoping they didn't _notice_ she was late. Then she blinked. "Where's the Runt?"

" _Stacy_ is with uncle Blinky, who is currently _organizing a search for you!_ _"_ her mother's voice was getting louder. Then she shook her head. "Right, I need to call him." Moments later, she was on the phone. "Blinky, this is Claire, cancel the search, June is home. I'll call Jim and hope he hasn't killed anyone yet."

"Dad?" June laughed. "Mom aren't you bei—"

"June, why do we tell you to never play with young troll whelps?"

June sighed dramatically. "Because troll parents have a nearly instinctual protective response that they can't always…" She blinked. "But Dad's a half troll and I go to school."

"Trust me. Convincing Jim to let you go off to school alone wasn't an easy conversation and why do you think _I_ was the only parent present for that conference about your bullying problem? Jim has less of an instinct, not _no_ instinct." Her phone beeped again. "Ah, Jim got Blinky's text and he's… Yeah." One uplifted hand and a portal appeared as her father charged into the room, fully armored, sword blazing with energy.

"What happened!" he said, his voice, deep, guttural. It was rattling the _windows._ "Did someone take you? Did someone _hurt_ you, June?!" June found herself pushing back into the couch.

"Jim!" Mom snapped. "You're frightening her. Nobody hurt her, she's fine. Calm down." She reached up and ran her hand over his head and horn, her petite form tiny next to her husbands. "It's okay. June was just… Forgetting to call us."

"Forgetting?" Dad's voice was calmer now. "For _five hours?_ "

"It was—It wasn't that bad!"

"Killed by angry stalking. Shot by a mugger," Dad said, his voice tense. "Captured by one of the Scions of Gunmar. You know, the people that _hate me_."

"Or…" Claire said, and suddenly there was a little catch in her voice. "Just hit by a drunk driver down by the turnpike, tossed off your bike into that overgrown gully, where you'd be, unconscious, hurt, maybe dying, while we were looking for you, with no idea where you were. Maybe no idea until it was too late." She smiled. "I've faced Gunmar, Morgana, and more, and I can tell you that these have easily been the most terrifying hours in my life."

 _I scared Mom? I scared Dad?_ That was… They didn't _do scared._ But they were, and now she had an unpleasant feeling in her belly.

"June, we let you go out with your friends without many rules because we trust you. But that means that you have to accept the boundaries we _do_ set." Claire sighed and brushed her hair back. Suddenly Mom looked _tired._ So did Dad. "But right now, I don't think it is a good time to have this conversation. I'm wiped out from all the portals, we're both upset, and I think we all need to be calm, rested, and have good blood sugar levels—or Chromium levels, in your father's case. Go to bed—we'll talk about this in the morning."

"Right…" June got up and started for the stairway to her room. "M-Mom?"

"Yes, Dear?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know, but we'll still have to talk about it tomorrow."

* * *

Later, after June had gone to bed and the light under her door had gone off, Claire and Jim were sitting on the couch, staring at the dark TV. Claire had changed into her fluffy nightgown and was leaning up against Jim. Jim was breathing slowly, running through the meditation exercises he'd been taught.

"So. Exile to Siberia?" Claire asked.

"4:00PM curfew for the next week," her husband replied. "We've also got some yardwork that needs doing."

"She won't mind the work," Claire murmured sleepily.

"No. She's a good kid." There was an odd tone to Jim's voice.

"What?" Claire asked, looking up to him.

"Noth—"

Claire cleared her throat and leveled a warning gaze at her husband.

"Right. I never really apologized to Mom. For all the times I just left, even when she told me to stay. For the time we lied to her about the troll attack, even though she was a _doctor_. God, she thought I'd been getting involved in crime, that they might arrest me or find my body by the canals one day." He closed his eyes. "If I had died… If we had died, there was every chance that our parents would have _never_ known what happened to us. We would have just walked out of our homes one day—and never come back. I never apologized. Not really"

"Not really?"

"June… If anything happened to her…" One hand clenched, trollish muscles creaking. "I kept thinking about everything, about how it would be my fault if one of our enemies had hurt her. What if she was screaming for mommy and daddy and _we weren_ _'_ _t there…_ "

Claire put her hands over his hand. "Relax. If you want to call her, Barbara is on night shift, remember? If I read the time difference right she should be _just about_ getting to her break."

"Right." Jim looked down at his wife and kissed her. "I'll be right back."

Claire leaned back, staring at the ceiling. From the next room she heard the sound of the phone, followed by Jim's voice. "Mom? No, nothing's wrong… I just… Well, for all those times I vanished on you? I want to say I'm sorry. For the first time, I really understand what I did to you…"

She smiled, then made a note to get up a little early. _Her_ parents didn't have night shifts, but Claire decided she owed them a call as well.


	2. A Chat Between Veterans

_Winning_ the war is sometimes easier than coming home and living in the aftermath. Even those physically unmarked often carry their own burdens...

Claire/Merlin

* * *

Claire looked out over the streets of the city. Full of people. Students, some of them her age, some of them older, adults, parents pushing their children in strollers, and sitting at the cafe…

Claire. Jim wasn't here. Not with a bright sun shining in the cold winter sky, but he'd chivvied her out of New Trollmarket, and Blinky had agreed. "You're not joined at the hip!" he'd told them.

Then he'd whispered to Claire "That was on a list of sayings your parents have sent me."

So here she was. She'd gone into a bookstore, read a little, sat, taking in the crowds when there was no worry, no possible danger, just people.

And she felt alone.

"My teacher is going to totally freak if I don't get that test in…" Someone her age, wailing to her friends. It had been months since Claire had worried about that. She'd been taking distance learning, but graduate with her school? Never. At most, she'd have a note that she had graduated but not attended graduation.

 _And worse of all? I don_ _'_ _t know if I'd belong._ They'd done so much. She'd seen people die. She'd seen people almost die—like Jim. _She_ had almost died.

And she'd killed. Trolls were people, just like humans and she had killed them. Some of them were victims of Gunmar's blade.

They were dead and here she was sipping hot chocolate. She'd given orders, led, and now…

 _What now?_ Was she just going to spend the rest of her life working in New Trollmarket? Go back to some school where people would pat her on the head and tell her she'd understand when she was older?

"Ah, Fair Claire. May I sit down?"

She looked up and then blinked. _Merlin?_ He was wearing a _tailored_ suit, silver cuff-links gleaming in the light and wore it with the same ease he wore his armor.

"You—is that magic?"

"Well,the tailor had tools that would have once been considered magic, but no, I purchased this. Your economic system is actually fairly easy to understand, once you have a chance to sit down and think about it." He smiled, looking around. "As is much of your society. Do you know I learned today that childbed death is so rare as to be considered a great tragedy? In my time it was… an inevitability. I am happy that Jim's mother has such an honorable calling." He sat down and gestured to the waitress.

"Well, she isn't very happy with you."

 _I_ _'_ _m not, either._

"For manipulating the Trollhunter? Cutting him off from your council and convincing him that transforming himself was the only hope to defeat Gunmar? She is not the only one, though I do not apologize. Regardless, I pray that you and your lover will be able to ensure that he is the last such sacrifice that is needed."

"What about you?"

"I will spend some time tutoring you. Then I expect to retire, spend my time traveling, exploring this world." Suddenly Merlin looked up at her, and his eyes were…

 _Tired._

"I have buried my parents, my friends. My boon companions—too many. You may find it strange, but this old man had friends as close as Jim, as Toby…and I have outlived them all. I could tell you stories that would have us all roaring in laughter…" He closed his eyes. "And you would nod politely, but not understand because you don't have the memories, the experience. It can be a terrible thing to be the last at the table that used to be filled with so many friends."

"You didn't try very hard," Claire muttered. She was still angry, remembering her frantic hammering on the door.

"No. I'm very used to manipulating people, seeing them as objects. It's easier, you see. I am, in my way, just as monstrous as Morganna was. Which is why I must retire. This world, this wonderful, complex, gentle world, needs guardians who have not been rendered callous by too many centuries of life."

" _Gentle?_ _"_

"Oh, Fair Claire, you have no idea." Merlin took a sip of the coffee that the waitress had brought. "Wonderful food, though using forks and knives for everything can be a bit confusing."

"I don't know…" Claire shook her head. "I'm…"

"You're a child who became a soldier, a follower who had to become a leader. As did Jim. As did Toby." Merlin said softly. "In my time, war came upon us earlier, but even among Uther and Arthur, you three would have been held in esteem—especially because you had _so_ little preparation." He looked over at a group of teens, mooning at a boy-band magazine. "But there is the price. None of _them_ have killed. None of them have felt the terror of death. That is a gulf that will take some time and work to overcome. And then there will be others who do not know or who do not care what you've done, and will expect you to fade back into your place and play the obedient child once again."

"So, what do you want me to do, ignore them?" Claire said.

"If you want to end up like me, certainly."

 _What?_

"After all, if it's hard to get back, to talk to people who might not understand, you can always just throw yourself into another desperate conflict. Spend your time spinning webs and making plans and then you may never be _able_ to go back."

"I really don't want to just go back to…" Claire stared at a girl, wailing that her life was over, _over_ because she was grounded on Saturday. Last Saturday, they'd been dealing with a sudden outbreak of angry rock-hounds that had decided they wanted to snack on Troll.

"Then don't. Demand to be treated as an adult, make them treat you on your _own_ terms, Fair Claire, but that doesn't mean you must forever stand apart." Merlin smiled. "I have a theater presentation to see—Camelot, if you can believe it. But I do have _one_ last suggestion."

"What?"

Merlin handed her a card, a number written on it in his elegant script. "Doctor Lake and I were talking, a process made much easier by a lack of brooms that can strike me through a phone. She suggested that you and Jim might have issues adapting, and suggested a friend of hers, a New Jersey doctor specializing in P.T.S.D." Merlin pronounced each letter separately. "Apparently, it is a field that helps individuals deal with past experiences. She suggested that had I had it in my time, I may have been less of a 'flaming asshole.'"

Claire burst out into laughter. "Doctor Lake said _that?_ "

"Yes. Those who save the world never receive the thanks that is due to them, though she did offer to pay for a lobotomy for me, whatever that is." Claire looked up and realized that there was a gleam of humor in the ancient wizard's eyes.

"Well, she's right."

"Oh, perfectly so. She and Arthur could have spent days listing my faults." A flicker of memory passed through his eyes, and Claire caught Merlin glance at the empty seat at the table, as if he expected someone to be there. Then, he shook his head. "So!" Merlin said. "I must be off. Just remember, after playing such a role in saving this delightful world, it would be a pity if you and the Trollhunter cut yourselves off from it." Then he was walking, a silver headed walking stick in one hand (and where had he gotten _that!)_ the crowds almost unconsciously parting around him.

Claire stared, watching as Merlin vanished into the crowds, then picked up the card. She had been having bad dreams but…

 _Right. First thing tomorrow, talk to mom and dad about getting emancipated. I can_ _'_ _t help the trolls if I have truant and curfew officers breathing down my back. Then call this doctor and find out if he'll also talk to trollhunters. Then, talk to Jim about how we're going to make a home here. People know about trolls now, so there's no sense hiding in the shadows…_ Claire looked up at the crowds around her.

Merlin was right. They'd _paid_ to save this world. Why _couldn_ _'_ _t_ they be a part of it?


	3. Chapter 3: You did WHAT on the couch?

Last one for a while-Alas, fanfiction doesn't pay the bills like writing for pay does.

June always thought that people overstated what her mom and dad had done. Sure they were in the history books. Sure they worked to keep the peace between trolls and mankind… but it was _Dad._ The guy who showed up at PTA meetings with a goofy grin as if that was the most wonderful thing he'd ever done. The guy who coached little league and soccer (when the sky was overcast or after dark), who cooked (and June could eat _both_ types of food, thank you very much, just as long as it wasn't _eugh_ alive), who had that _ridiculous_ sombrero and poncho he liked to wear even when it was dark outside. Who still _rode a Vespa_.

But Bular Slayer? Gunmar's Bane? Nah. That wasn't Dad.

Unless dad came in and found June on the couch with her bestest-forever boyfriend Jake who sort of had his hand inside her partially unbuttoned shirt.

Then suddenly, Bular S _layer_ and Gunmar's _Bane_ didn't sound so strange. The _look_ he gave Jake caused June to protectively get in front of her boyfriend. After all, she was the quarter-troll, as proven by her tail, dusky complexion, fangs and tiny horns. She was—

"Sit down, June."

Right. She was sitting down.

"And button yourself up."

"Right." She hadn't squeaked. Nope. Not at all.

"So…" Jim Lake-Nunez said. "Jake, how about you head on home—I need to have a little chat with the daughter."

"Gleep." Jake's were wide, like someone who had just turned the corner and saw Death.

 _Wait! If Jake goes home, I_ _'_ _ll get yelled at. If Jake stays here, dad might_ eat _him!_

"It's, um, okay—He had to go home anyway!" June said. Dad looked at her, raised one eyebrow, and June felt about four inches high and four years old. Jake took the advantage to make his escape.

"So…" Dad said. "Are they doing the unit on breast cancer and self-examinations already?"

"Wh-no! Eugh!"

"So you were—"

"Hi, honey." Now mom breezed into the room, "sorry I'm late. _Someone_ decided Summoning the Thing that Must Never Be Named would be a good party trick." She kissed dad.

"Sounds nasty."

"Actually, it just _really_ hated its name. Unfortunately, that means that everyone _thinks_ it's uber powerful instead of just wanting to be left alone."

"Good, then you can have _family_ time!" Dad said, exposing _all_ of his fangs.

"Walter causing problems with his adventures?" Mom asked. "Or Stacy maintaining her vow of only talking-by-text."

"Nope!" Dad said with that same smile. "Your daughter and her boyfriend have… moved beyond helping each other with their homework…" He reached out his hands and did a rapid drumming on the table in front of the couch. _"And have achieved second base!_ "

"Dad…" June moaned. Maybe a portal would open up and she'd vanish into the underdark. Maybe Uncle Blinky needed someone to help him with the Troll Annex to the Library of Congress. That'd take years, right?

"Well," Mom ran a hand through her dark hair, the single white stripe gleaming in the light. " _Terrible_ choice of location, but at least Jake isn't maintaining his 'I can't even kiss her because she'll break' policy.' I was wondering when Jake was going to actually tou—you didn't traumatize him, did you Jim?"

"He had—wait, _me_ traumatize _him?_ "

"He's a nice kid and June and Jake have been together since she was running around whacking people with a plastic sword. Remember the time she 'slew' Bular with the wooden sword she made, and we ended up having to take Jake to the doctor?"

" _Mom_ _…_ " That incident didn't need to be brought up. So she'd been a little excited, but… Now June didn't know what was worse. Dad reading her the riot act, or Mom bringing up things that _needed to stay forgotten._

"Yes, and she's fourteen."

Now Mom blew some hair out of her eyes. "And how old were we on the journey to home?" She gestured at their house, the rest of New Jersey surrounding it. " _How_ many days passed before we did somewhat more than June and Jake just did? As I recall, it was about one day out of Arcadia." She laughed. "And we were positively repressed. Think about Mary. _How_ many boyfriends did she have?"

"Urrr… Okay, point," Jim said.

 _Wait? Are they saying that Pastor Wang_ _…_ June's brain really couldn't handle that image. It just didn't compute.

"As for the rest…" She paused. "Let's see, June is fourteen, I turn 32 in a month, and you just turned 32, which means…"

June paused, thinking. Yeah, she knew that mom and dad were young when she was born but were they— _"_ _Eugh!_ Mom, I'm not thinking of _that!_ _"_

"I know you're not, Dear," Mom said. "You're still going in on Friday to have an implant. Accidents happen, and trust people who know—teenage parentdom isn't fun."

"I was bad?" Mom and Dad had never said that before.

"No." Dad ruffled her hair. "You were fine. _We_ were completely, pathetically unprepared. If it wasn't for everyone else, well." He sighed. "Fine, It's _possible_ I overreacted a bit. But this is _our_ couch."

"Don't forget, our daughter is quarter troll and well…" Claire tilted her head. "Trolls show affection via physical contact. You know, like we do."

"I'm not going to be punished?" June asked, and suddenly Mom was looking at her. With. That. Look. June gulped, but Mom just smiled. "Of course not. In fact, I'm happy that you used the couch. In fact, this couch has deep memories for your father and me—Stacy spent her first seconds in this world with us on this couch."

"What do you mean—everyone uses…" Then June noticed Mom's smirk. _Wait a minute. First seconds? That would mean, are they saying that they—on_ this _couch?_ "No. _No._ You did not…"

"Oh Dear," Mom said. "I think she's just realized that we do the deed. You would have thought that June would have noticed her younger brother and sister, and asked where they were conceived."

"No, no, no!" _I sit on this couch—_ "Not thinking about this!"

 _"_ And _that_ _'_ _s_ how you punish the child, dear." Mom's smirk was well… Evil.

* * *

Later, after a very uncomfortable conversation, with Mom and Dad both talking about things that people their age _had no business talking about_ , June was sitting in the living room, _not_ on the couch. Stacy came strolling in, fingers working at her phone as she texted another one of her friends.

"So, got caught, dork?" Stacy asked.

"I—how did you know!"

"Matter of time." Fingers flying, she looked up at June. "You're not sneaky."

"I am too sneaky!"

Stacy raised an eyebrow, her bio luminescent patterns gleaming in the room. "Got caught."

"Fine!" June said. "Just wait until you get caught."

"Won't. Sneaky."

June threw a pillow at her sister. It was really the only thing to do.


	4. Empty Nest

2056

Jim stopped the car. It was getting dark, so he didn't have to put on his special poncho, although to be fair, the sunscreen developed by the Troll-Human Center for Medical Research did a nice job of protecting him, even if his skin felt prickly. Claire got out of her side of the car, stretching with a yawn of satisfaction.

"Should have just ported," she muttered.

"Weren't you the one who wanted this to be a normal family trip for our youngest's move to his first year in college?"

"It seemed easier when we did it with Stacy, Dralla, and June—or at least I don't remember the ride back being so painful for my spine," Claire said.

Jim smiled, staring down at his wife. Exercise and good genes kept her looking good, though to be fair, Jim was prejudiced. Claire would always be perfect in his eyes. Some of the other ladies made dark comments about unholy pacts, but Claire just laughed when it was brought up. Magic was too important, she'd murmured to him once, to be used so frivolously.

Claire didn't talk about whatever bargain or ritual Merlin and Morganna had used to remain in the world, just that the cost was far beyond any possible benefit.

Didn't matter. Claire didn't need anything. The dying sunlight gleamed off of her hair, her white stripe now joined by a liberal scattering of gray hair through her raven locks. Smile lines graced her face, and her eyes were as bright and perceptive as they had been those days, so long ago, when he'd stared at her in high school.

But walking into the house, Jim paused. There was something… Off about it. The lights had come on automatically, the computer remembering where people would want to go, the air was nice and cool after the humid New Jersey air but…

"It's quiet," Claire said.

 _Quiet_. No sound from Vendel's room. Not his friends, who were all off at college themselves, gathering for one of his retro game tournaments. No sound of muttered curses as they crammed for tests…

No embarrassed coughs as he waited for Mom and Dad to _vacate_ so he could have quality time with Taylor, his current girlfriend.

Current and very possible long-term. Taylor and Vendel fit well together, and Jim had high hopes for the two of them.

The house was… silent.

 _God, how long has it been? June at 18, then Stacy, then Dralla and Vendel_ _…_ Vendel had been the last, and actually unexpected. Between sorcery and half-troll, normal countermeasures were iffy. But Claire had had difficulty carrying him to term and had been in the hospital for a week after his birth. Vendel had been the last, would _be_ the last.

Which meant…

 _No more pattering feet—or thundering herds. No more_ _"just one more minute, Dad." No more late night study sessions._ Oh, they'd come back, and visit and talk, but…

Vendel would find his own home, make his own life, like Stacy and June and Dralla already had.

Jim felt an odd squeezing sensation in his chest, followed by the feel of Claire's hand around his.

"They're still here," Claire softly said. "We have all the memories."

"I know, and I should be happy. They're good kids, all of them," Jim said.

"We make a good team," Claire said. "And not just Trollhunting." She looked into the house, then outside at the neighborhood. "I guess Janice is heading off to college as well. I can't see her bike."

"It's really quiet," Jim said. Part of him wanted to suggest going to see a movie or getting dinner, but they both had an early day tomorrow…

And it would just be putting things off.

"You know," Claire said. "Remember how we were thinking about turning Vendel's room into my new office?"

"Yeah," Jim said. "I was going to order the bookshelves tomorrow."

"Maybe…" Claire said. "I can just keep using my old office. I mean, sure its a little walk to the basement, but I've already set up the wards down there and it'd be a pain to move and re-catalog everything."

"And so we could keep the room."

"Yeah. I mean, never know when the kids might drop back by, and June's kids would _really_ prefer to not have to cram in the second guest room together."

"Vendel's bed is _really_ heavy." Said the man who could benchpress a truck.

"Makes sense to keep it." Claire nodded to herself. "Perfect sense."

"Completely logical." Jim said. He felt better now.

"You know…" Claire said, looking up at him. "There is _one_ advantage to this."

"What?"

"We no longer have to conform to the sacred teen rule: 'Parents shall show affection with chaste glances and brief touches.'"

Jim felt his eyebrows rise. "You mean…"

"As long as we don't destroy the house…" Claire giggled.

"What about the bed?"

"Oh, _that_ _'s_ fine."

Jim laughed and swept his wife up into his arms.

Claire threw her arms around his neck. "Remember the last time we cut loose?"

"Oh, _God,_ yes." Jim found himself laughing harder. "We forgot that Dralla was coming home with some of her friends, and when we came down the stairs, _remember_ the look on her face?" They were moving up the stairs now, the door closed behind him.

As Jim vanished around the corner, Claire's voice came drifting down. "I never really figured the look. Murderously annoyed, or Mortified?"

"Murderously Mortified, Claire, Murderously Mortified."

"Let's see if we can put the same expression on the neighbors' faces."

"Challenge accepted, Love."


	5. Awkward Education

"June." Claire was sitting behind on the couch, looking at June.

June sighed. Okay, mom wasn't still angry over her little… Incident with her BFF. Not that she had been before. But now, June was here and everyone else was gone, including Dad, and Mom was sitting on the Couch That June Would Never sit In Again.

"Yeah, Mom?"

"We need…" Thunder rattled the window panes as a New Jersey storm moved in. "…to talk about your relationships."

"What? Mom, I thought we did!"

"Yes…" Claire glanced at June and frowned. "June, you're quarter-troll."

"Duh!"

"And that means you're about oh, 25% stronger than a normal human of your body weight.

June grinned, nodding. It was _great_ having the guys underestimate her.

"That can present some… complications. You see, at points of great excitement or ah, arousal… you can find yourself exceeding those limits. That's why for the first year or so, until your father had greater control we stuck to a few pos—"

Mom's words faded out. Mom was talking about sex. Mom was talking about _her having sex with dad!_ One was just wrong, the two combined entered some dark universe of wrongness!

"…Now, since you're the stronger party, things are different, but I've…" Mom pulled out a folder and opened it, and then June's mouth opened, closed, opened again, but no words came out. "Downloaded a series of diagrams of safe positions to make certain that you don't accidentally hurt your partner, so we can talk about them right now…"

Finally, June looked up at her mother. "This is some plot to make me join a Nunnery, right? Because if so, it's _coming really close to working!_ _"_


	6. A Chat Between Veterans 2

The axe dug into the wood, the sound echoing through the growing dusk. Jim kept the pace up—he might be nocturnal, but few of their neighbors were, and nobody liked being woken up at 4AM.

Winter was coming, and they had a fireplace that both Claire and Jim had fallen in love with—and a back yard that was overgrown and posed a fire hazard in the summer. The answer was simple.

Trollhunters made good woodcutters after all.

Jim had to admit he loved the winter— the snow, snuggling with Claire and June and little Stacy, as well as the pleasurable fact that the sun set early in the winter. Not having to rush to beat the closing hour or stick to the 24-hour stores made shopping _incredibly_ easier.

Helping get the snow shoveled so they could move the car out of the driveway—well, that was a little less pleasurable, but even so, being the trollhunter counted for something even if it was just wielding the shovel of Death To Snow.

"Working as a woodcutter? I'd expect you could pay someone to do it for you."

Jim put the axe down. There would have been a time when the armor would have flown onto him at that voice, but well, nearly eight years did wonders for your self control. "I've always enjoyed doing things myself, Merlin. Besides, there's some fun to doing… Ordinary things."

Merlin looked the same, well, except for the fact that he was wearing a pair of slacks and a shirt with DISNEY PRINCESS SHOW emblazoned on it. Merlin followed Jim's gaze.

"It's interesting how mankind remakes the legends for every new generation. You know, I found it interesting when I was looking you up."

"What?"

"Twenty four, and you've already saved the world. You could be living in a mansion, a powerful man and yet… Your wife handles consultations for mystic affairs and you…"

"Am getting gray hair," Jim said.

"Oh?"

Jim let his frustration biol over. "The Joint Human-Troll Law Enforcement Task Force is almost ready to go. Four years of everyone from Blinky to the Attorney General, with me in the middle of the room." Jim didn't mention to Merlin how sometimes he felt out of place. He was _younger_ than some of the officials and interns who prefaced every sentence with "Sir." "And now, that everything is ready, It's held up."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Jim glared at an inoffensive log. "By the important question of whether it will be the Joint Human-Troll Law Enforcement Task Force, _or_ the Joint _Troll-Human_ Law Enforcement Task Force." He sighed. "And I'd hoped that it was going to get finished this week. Do you _realize_ how many books I've read? And I thought _high school_ was hard."

"Why do you bother?"

"Because, more and more trolls are appearing. We've gotten people—changelings who had offspring. Some humans with trollish attributes have been born and nobody knows _where_ that came from, only at some point in their family tree, it did. And the law has to be ready to handle them, we need more people who can handle them, because I was barely able to handle _Trollmarket,_ let alone everything going on in the United States. People, troll, changeling and human, need to know that the law can protect them."

"And once again I am reminded why you were chosen, Jim." Merlin sat in the gathering darkness. "You know, I could have found a better warrior, someone looking for glory. Even among humans there were many, who would have met Gunmar with guns and fire, who would have organized an army to win the fight…"

"It wouldn't have stopped there." Jim shook his head. "That sort of thing never does. He would have kept going."

"Yes. It needed someone who had a foot in both worlds, not to be a warrior, but a peacemaker. The kind of peacemaker I never could be…" Merlin sighed. "I raised up kings and princes, but they often measured their achievements in the bodies of their enemies and those achievements never lasted…"

"Like Alexander the Great," Jim said. "Conquers half the world and it flies apart right after he dies."

"You don't sound like you admire him."

"Not even. Give me George Washington or Cincinnatus any day of the week." At Merlin's look, Jim stared. "What. Do you think _Claire_ was going to stand for an ignoramus? I've got my BA."

Merlin snorted. "Yes, I think that is wise. The Fair Claire isn't someone to get angry at you.

"You have no idea…" Jim said. "Is there some crisis I should be getting ready for?"

"Oh. No, none of that. Just a question, and a gift…"

"Your last gift…" Jim shook his head. "Well, what's the question?"

"I took your humanity from you."

"I decided…"

"You were fifteen, away from your friends and mentors. I have lived for centuries and learned to use my words no less well than my sorcery. After I finished talking to you, you were no more likely to refuse the potion than Arthur was likely to tell me I was wrong and Excalibur wasn't his destiny. He was fourteen, at the time, though already a squire." Merlin looked at Jim, for a moment seeing something else.

 _How many ghosts live behind those eyes?_ Jim wondered.

"Have you forgiven me?" Merlin asked.

Jim didn't answer for a moment, tugging at his lumberjack style shirt that Claire had bought him. "You cost me my graduation from high school. My last two years. I burst into tears when I realized that everyone else was marching that day, and I was here. College…" He looked up. "Well, I was distance learning—couldn't take time away. Claire…" he shook his head. "I'm more angry at you for her sake. She deserved to have fun, doing theater, maybe joining a sorority."

"I doubt she would have done _that!_ _"_

"They have all types," Jim said, flicking a wood chip in Merlin's direction. "And she'd have loved it,but then June was born and so Claire had to ram her BA through in two years. She had fun, but it was… really stressful." And Merlin wouldn't know how stressful it was, when Claire was freaking out and losing sleep and bursting into tears at odd times…

Not from Jim at least.

"I—"

" _But_." Jim raised a finger. "The death toll at Arcadia was bad enough. If I hadn't been a half-troll, Gunmar would have stomped me like a bug on a plate and things would be magnitudes worse. Don't think eternal night would have continued, but well, after the US nailed it with a fusion bomb, I doubt _Arcadia_ would have cared much how things turned out and the death toll would have been obscene. I'm in a position to make things better, so that nobody has to do it in the future… I'm still not… _happy_ , not completely, but sometimes, ideal isn't in the cards. We've made a pretty damned good life, after all." He shook his head. "And it's not like we're the only soldiers who found out that we could never come back to the home we left. Our changes were just a little more obvious."

"I see." Merlin sighed. "Now for my gift. I believe you've been troubled at the thought that you might have a trollish lifespan—unlike your family."

"You have been spyin—" Jim tensed.

"Hah!" Merlin's laugh was loud. "My boy, a blind man could see how much you love your wife, your family. It takes no great genius to realize that you would consider long outliving them no gift."

Jim relaxed. "So…"

"So, I am many things. But I am not a god. Your essence was mixed, but your soul shall be counted among the children of man. You will live a long life, you shall be blessed by vigor until your last days… But your life will be counted long by _man_. Not by trolls. If you do not die from accident or violence…" Merlin shook his head. "Well, whichever one of you departs to the unknown country will not have long to wait to be joined by their soulmate."

"You know," Jim said with a chuckle. "This is probably one of the few times someone telling you 'you're going to die sooner than some think' counts as _good_ news." He shook his head. "I'm about done here. Do you want to come in?"

"Oh no, my boy. I have a concert in Los Angeles to be at. I just wanted to drop by…"

"Okay," Jim said. _Always the outsider, never making friends, only acquaintances_ _…_ He stared at the ancient wizard. _How many close friends did you lose before you decided: no more?_

Suddenly Jim hoped that Merlin wouldn't delay. He wanted nothing more than to leave the suddenly chilly back yard and go into his home, where Claire and June and Stacy waited for him.

"Still," Merlin mused. "If you have any spells that need working?"

"Can you cast a spell to make ancient trolls and government officials stop acting like toddlers who need a nap?" Jim asked.

Merlin laughed. "Oh, we're back to needing a _god_ , as opposed to a mere wizard. Well, then, I'll be off!" He raised his hand, and moments later, the yard was empty.

* * *

When Jim came inside, he luxuriated in the warmth of the house. Claire was curled up on the couch in her Papa Skull nightgown, finishing up some paperwork.

"Kids in bed?" Jim asked.

"Yeah, June's got an early day tomorrow and Stacy…" Claire giggled. "We were reading the _Fellowship of the Ring_ ,"

"Oh, I bet she loves it."

"Yeah, but she has an order for you."

"Which is?"

"If I ever go to the Mines of Moria, you _have_ to come with me, because the wizard needs someone who will _catch_ them when the balrog tries to drag them down." She smirked. "So will you?"

Jim smiled. "Catch you? Always, Claire." He sat down next to her and put his arms around his wife. "Always."


	7. Comic Book Adaptation Fail

Jim stared at the innocent book that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He moaned to himself, then patted the old couch. _Couch, old friend, I don_ _'t think we'll be conceiving any new additions the family on you after this…_

How was he going to fix this? When they'd asked to do a graphic novel of his and Claire's experiences, Jim and Claire had agreed. He'd sent in some pictures from school and immediately after, and that had been it.

He probably should have considered the fact that they had said… _Loosely_ based upon.

"Hi honey," Claire said as she breezed in, Stacy behind her, fingers flying on her omnipresent tablet. Sure, Jim had texted a little, but would it hurt her to talk?

Then Jim had a thought. Stacy might text, but she wasn't June (away at college). She would say something snarky, retreat with the book and Jim could get it and dispose of it tonight.

That would only leave the online editions, the store editions and…

Okay, he was dead, but maybe he could keep it from happening for another day.

"Hey Stacy, how was school."

"Boring."

 _Wow, two syllables. That_ _'s a good sign._

"We got a book in today. Wanna read it later?"

"Mmm…" One hand snagged the book and she put down her tablet to look at it.

Okay, bad sign. Stacy was supposed to look at it in her room. Still, maybe he would escape. "How was work, Claire?"

"Ugh," Claire moaned, running her fingers through her hair, checking that her hairpins were in place. "We tell them that no, _Troll warnings are not superstition_ , and someone still decides to open a sealed casket up to 'show everyone the magic trick'."

"They got it?"

"Fire elemental. _In the New York Museum of Modern Art_." She sighed. "Granted, _I_ think some of the statues were improved for being melted… But I—"

"Oh. MY. **GOD!** **"** ****Stacy's voice filled the room. Jim looked behind Claire and saw Stacy the book open in her lap. As Claire turned to face her, Jim made frantic 'no!" gestures.

She didn't notice them. Or she did and didn't care.

Traitor.

"I didn't know you had boobs that big mom!"

" _What?_ _"_ Claire said, her voice shocked, and then Stacy turned the book so that Claire and Jim could see the big, two page spread of their final battle.

"Yeah! I mean, it looks like someone stuck a pair of weather balloons to your chest!"

"I-Stacy—" Jim started as Claire stared.

"And look, when you're jumping, it looks like they're pulling you _up!_ Were they magic?"

Claire's mouth was moving but no sounds were coming out.

"Not to mention the armor. I mean, really, _thong_ plate armor and…" the teen looked at her mother's slim form. "I think they added something to your ass… I mean, in addition to subtracting all the armor except for the metal-floss."

"Jim?" Claire's voice had that "I know the answer isn't going to be correct, but I'll let you try," sound to it.

"It's the new graphic novel and they, ah, um… took some…" Jim scratched one of his horns. "Liberties?"

"Magic floating boobs and armor that looks like I'd need tongs to remove it."

"A number of liberties?" _Please Stacy go back to your texting—_

"I love what they have you say here mom: "If only my love Jim was here to give me the strength to fight the vile Morganna…" You didn't say that, did you?"

"Jim?" His wife's voice was currently getting a little chilly.

"They took a great _deal_ of liberty with the source material."

"Here's—dad, why are you wearing nothing but a pair of speedos?"

"Because I think I had some self respect left?" Jim sighed. "Just wait until you get to the daughter of Gunmar subplot."

"Daughter of Gunmar?"

"My love interest, your rival. You kill her on page 72. I haven't gotten there yet."

"Yeah, here it is. Lost your top, Mom."

"WHAT?" Jim and Claire bent down. "I thought it was supposed to be a general audiences book!"

"Well, yeah, it is," Stacy said. "You know, as long as they don't call attention to it."

"Don't call attention to it?" Her mother's voice was aggrieved. "I'm center frame in _every_ _other panel_!"

 _General audience has sort of changed since I was her age_ , Jim thought. Great, now he was old _and_ in the doghouse.

"Okay!" Stacy said. "Gotta go up to my room. Jenny is gonna _freak_ over this—"

"Wait, Stacy, you don't nee—aaannnnddd, she's gone," Claire said.

"In my defense, I sort of… Assumed that they intended to stay sort of close to the way we really looked." Jim stared at Claire.

She was paging through the book. "Well, if every girl at Arcadia high, and I mean, _every_ girl, looked like a porn star, they did. Not to—" Claire blinked. "Jim?"

"Yah?"

"Page 85, when Toby shows up."

"Yeah?"

"He looks like Conan the Barbarian, with a chain gun, and _why_ is he riding a cyborg, armored, polar bear?"

"They took many, _many_ , liberties with the source material."

Claire glared at him for a moment, then giggled softly. "Well, there's one good thing to come out of this."

 _What?_ "What?"

"We know better when it comes to someone asking for movie rights."

Jim shuddered. If this had been a movie… "Yah."

"Good, scoot over. I think we need to read this masterpiece, especially how you were going behind my back with the daughter of your worst enemy."

"Hey, _I_ was trying to be mature about it. _You_ were the one who got into a fight, lost your top, and killed her."

"And don't you forget it, buster." Claire said. "I'll take the girls' voices, you take the guys'."

"Right, Claire," Jim said. If this piece of writing was going to haunt him for the rest of his days (or at least until it ended up in the bargain bin), it was only fair that he get some fun out of it.


	8. Claire's Bad Day, Part I

The day started out terrible, and it got worse from that point on. Claire had been working on an alchemical solution in her lab, when there was a little puff and she was enshrouded in violet cloud. Staggering out of it, coughing and hacking, the sorceress hit the button that turned the vents on.

You couldn't use them _when_ preparing a potion—electrical currents and the emissions of motors hadn't been created with magic in mind, but given that her potion was well and truly _ruined_ _…_

"Oh God," Claire moaned as she slammed the door shut and flew into the house, shivering at the chilly New Jersey air. Even years later, Claire was still a California girl when it came to being cold. Unfortunately, she couldn't wait. One thing she _did_ know about the potion was that unless she got it off quickly,she'd be a nice shade of purple for the next week.

She ran into the bathroom, pulled her clothes off, before she turned the hot water on. Claire didn't hesitate, waiting the bare minimum of time for it to heat up—

And a horrified shriek echoed through the house. The only thing keeping Claire from jumping out from under the hellishly cold water was the strong desire to _not be purple_. She washed herself off as quickly as possible, before jumping back out, glaring at the shower, shivering, wrapping her freezing body in a big, fluffy towel.

A thunder of feet echoed in the house as Jim burst into the bathroom, armor blazing as he waved…

 _A wrench around?_

"Claire! What's wrong?" Jim asked.

"Sho-cold—freezing…" Claire's teeth were chattering. "Who—"

"Oh, um, you were working on that potion and remember how the water heater was making those odd sounds, well, Blinky and I figured we could fix it ourselves." He moved to hold her in an embrace, before he looked at his greasy hands. "Err…"

"You could have told me…" Claire said, still shivering. She _liked_ the nice, long warm showers and baths she used to beat the New Jersey winters away. Right now, she felt like she was about to turn into an icicle.

"We'll have it ready in just a fe—"

"Master Jim!" The call echoed up from the stairs. "Not to interrupt, but I think the basement is flooding!"

"Ummm… Why don't you try the heater!" Jim said. "I'll be right back!" With that, he charged back down, shouting, "Blinky, the water valve, turn the water valve!"

Claire sighed. _Right, I_ _'_ _ll turn the heater up and get the electric blank—_ The lights flared up and then died— _And Jim and Blinky blew out the fusebox. Of course._ She tossed the towel to the side and went to go find some clothes. She finally dressed in her fluffy and warm sweater and pants (skirt and leggings were _not_ a winter event here), and started to proceed down to the basement, where the battle against the water heater was going poorly, if the sounds were any indicator.

It was then that her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Lake-Nunez?"

"Speaking."

"This is Sandy Elementary. Could you come down? Your daughter was involved in an… Altercation."

Claire blinked. "Is it serious, is anyone hurt?"

"She's fine. The other participants on the other hand…"

 _Well, that doesn_ _'_ _t sound good_. Claire frowned, then nodded. "I'll be right there." Jim could keep working on the furnace, and thus there would be no overprotective Dad-troll instincts working.

Moments later, she was in the car (portalling took effort and to be honest, had a bad habit of freaking people out), pulling onto the snowy roads. Claire avoided one delivery truck, nearly got broadsided by a rental car— _Must be Californians. Only they think driving faster is how you handle snow—_ and thirty nerve-wracking moments later, pulled into the freezing parking lot at Sandy Elementary. She walked into the front lobby, taking a moment to enjoy the blessed heat of a working furnace, then nodded at the secretary.

"What's wrong, Susan?"

"I'll… Let you talk to the nurse and the principal." The secretary looked like she was about to laugh and concealing it with a frown.

"Okay…" Claire remembered the important thing. _Find out what happened and remember to put it in the best possible light._ She opened the door to the nurse's office and…

"Hi Mom! I got in a fight and I _won!_ It was just like the Heroes Forge!" Those words came from June. June with a black eye, split lip, and a _huge, huge_ smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Lake-Nunez," Principal Jenkins sighed. "Before you ask, yes, you should see what the _other_ guys look like, especially the one who went to the ER."

 _Wait. Guys? Guys_ _ **plural?**_

"I'm sure I will…" Claire said faintly. For some reason, fighting trolls and demons didn't seem nearly as bad as the meeting she knew she was going to have…


	9. Claire's Bad Day, Part II

Claire didn't want to admit it, but she and Jim had both had to work through a certain amount of intimidation regarding school—They'd had June when they were 18, and that meant that Claire was considerably younger than most parents and teachers alike—especially in an upper middle-class neighborhood.

The fact that some clearly saw Claire as a bad influence, be it due to her magic or other factors didn't help. She still remembered with annoyance the time someone had written "monster fucker" on her windshield.

Of course, she had turned it around by writing "You're damned right" right under the words.

But even at 28, sometimes she had to remind herself that she was a parent here, not student (though the fact that the principal was old enough to be her mother didn't always help). It especially wasn't helping now, as June stared up at her with absolutely no regret. If anything, she looked like she wanted to go to round two.

"June, what _happened?!_ _"_ Claire asked in shock. "Why did you get into a fight!"

"I was saving someone, like Dad!"

"I—"

"If I may, Mrs. Lake-Nunez, the issue came when several junior high students from our companion school cornered one of their fellows right outside of our school grounds during recess." She sighed. "As you probably know, Adam's Intermediate has had a problem with bullying and well…"

* * *

 _Four kids surrounded the one smaller kid on the ground. A bunch of the little kids were staring at them but Greg didn_ _'_ _t care. They weren't going to do anything, and they'd be gone long before any teacher came out to see._

 _"_ _I told you to give us the money today, but you're holding—" He'd been hauling back to kick the wimp but suddenly a high-pitched scream stopped him._

 _"_ _FOR GLORY!"_

 _Greg barely had a chance to look up at the girl who had somehow_ vaulted _the fence, before a pair of dainty feet smashed him in the face, breaking his nose. His friend, Tom got punched in the gut, barfing as he curled around the deceptively small fist. Jake managed to connect with his baseball bat, but all the creepy little girl did was back off, and spit some blood from her lip onto the ground._ _"_ _Is that all you got? AAARRRGGGH hits harder than that, and he's a_ ** _pacifist!_** **"** _She grabbed the bat with one hand, hauling him in with the kind of strength that a shrimp like her shouldn_ _'_ _t have and then—"_

* * *

"Hold on!" Claire snapped. "Someone hit my child with a _baseball bat?!_ "

"It was okay Mom, it gave me an excuse to use rule number _three_."

"Oh, God."

* * *

 _Jake rose up, his feet actually leaving the ground as the girl nailed him right in the crotch. His mouth opened, getting wider and wider, but the only thing that came from it was a single, quiet word._

 _"_ _Mew." With that, he fell to the ground, engaging in the noble dance of the dying cockroach._

 _Mike was the last one, and he hauled off and punched the girl in her eye, that rocked her back, but she looked up at him and grinned._

 _"_ _Cool! One more!"_

 _Mike soon regretted **everything**._

* * *

Claire decided it probably wouldn't send the right message if she dug the aspirin out of her purse.

However much she wanted to.

"Now, granted, the new student bullying guidelines do include an exception for the defense of others, and this is a clear case, as it was caught on the video cameras. _However,_ there is the fact that June left the schoolyard, by vaulting over an 8-foot fence. She clearly sought out the conflict and…" Jenkin's glanced at June over her spectacles. "Does not seem to be very repentant."

There was a little shoulder Ophelia standing on Claire's left shoulder, staring at her daughter with an amused and mocking look, as if she enjoyed Claire's pain.

"June, you could have been hur—"

"Nah, Mom, remember how dad showed me? Jake didn't know how to use his bat and he let me get insid—"

"Be that as it may!" Claire said, her tone desperate as she noticed the nurse's eyebrow rise at June's comment. "You shouldn't take things like this into your own hands—that's why we have adu—"

"But dad did exactly what I did!" June said. "Remember, you told me how he knocked Steve's tooth out before Steve became nice! You even said that maybe he got nice because dad stood up for someone! That's what I did! Remember how you and dad never told any of your parents? And I wasn't even fighting trolls, just a bunch of bullies who didn't know how to fight!"

Claire's mouth opened, no words came out. Mainly because most of her responses sounded really bad even to her.

Shoulder Ophelia was no longer mocking—she was howling in laughter, pointing at her daughter.

Traitor.

The other adults in the room were simply viewing Claire with the same fascination Roman audiences had once shown for the daily "Christians and Lions" show.

"Were any of the other…" Claire censored her first five words, "children seriously injured."

"One broken nose, nothing else serious." The nurse gestured at Claire. "She is going to have some bruising."

June rubbed one of her small horns and grumped. "If he'd knocked one of my teeth out, I could have gotten an iron fang from—"

"No, you'd be getting a normal implant _from your dentist._ _"_

"On the other hand," Jenkins said, "And at risk of failing to put the fear of God into June, as you have been doing so admirably, the fact is that I doubt there will be much in the way of long-term consequences. For June at least. Insurance will cover their injuries, and if anyone were so foolish as to bring a civil suit, I think most juries would find a 10-year-old beating up four 13-year-olds who were engaged in beating a 12-year-old, to be… well, in the realm of karmic justice. Not only that, but I believe that juvenile authorities have been… _speaking_ to their parents about their actions. Which is why June isn't being suspended for the fight—she's being suspended for leaving school grounds, for the next two days. She can come back on Monday."

Part of Claire wanted to protest. Then she started to think. Making about leaving school grounds meant that there was no fighting issue and… _Right. June is going to be the hero of the next two days and Jenkins probably doesn_ _'_ _t want other students trying to emulate her. Give it two days and a weekend and it will all die down_.

"But, that's not fair!" June screeched.

"June! Indoor voice!" Claire snapped. "You'll… Understand when you're older…" Then she dropped her head into her hands. "I just said that." Claire muttered. She'd just joined her parents. She'd officially _become old_. Not only that, but from June's look, Mom had clearly joined the _enemy_.

And it didn't help that Claire was very, very proud that her daughter's first response, upon seeing someone being assaulted… _Right. This may cost me with the school, but I_ _'_ _m not ignoring it._ "June, what you did was very brave. It could have gone very, very badly, because you may be quarter troll, but are still only ten. Even so, I'll never be angry at you for trying to help others." She sighed. "But if students do break the rules, and nothing happens, the teachers lose all their authority and well, no bullying is just another rule, right?"

"I… guess."

"So you left the school, and if anything had happened, the teachers would have been punished, and _that_ _'_ _s_ what this is for—not for protecting someone." June was looking rebellious still, so Claire played her ultimate trump card. "Besides, you're right that your father and I did this. We also got suspended and detention for it. And we _went_ to those detentions because we had broken the rules." _And we_ _'_ _ll just leave running rampant around the school after Toby had almost poisoned our teacher for when you're—Gah! I said it again!"_

"I guess…" June muttered, still unconvinced.

"Well, now that we've handled that, I have some paperwork for you regarding this incident…"

"Right," Claire said. _God, I hope things get better._

* * *

"Master Jim, I believe there is a phrase for what our next course of action should be."

"What?"

"Unconditional Surrender."

"Right. I'll get the plumber and electrician." There was a pause. "Do you think this will be fixed before Claire…"

"Before we started on this small project, I believe a professional could have fixed it in a half hour or less. Now?" Blinky sighed. "You might consider also looking for a local hotel for the next day or so."


	10. Claire's Bad Day, Part III

When Claire got the news, with June in the car with her, she restrained herself from an inarticulate scream. Her comfy bed, (with comfy husband), the notes for her doctorate (And she had to get ready to defend it next _week!)_ and the thought of a pleasant evening curled up with her husband all went _poof!_

"How much is it going to be, Jim?" she asked. It wasn't as if they were poor, but…

"Oh, you're gonna love this," evidently the phone had been on speaker and the thick New Jersey accent was full of the "you're paying for my son's college glee". "By the time these two fumblefingers got finished, we're gonna have to replace the water heater _and_ the junction box. Eight K, easy."

Claire winced.

"On the bright side," Jim said. "I found a cheap hotel—well the only area hotels that isn't full. The game is in town, remember."

" _How_ could I forget?" Claire said. Half the people at college had been refusing to talk about anything else. The infection had somehow spread to most of her professional colleagues. Jim, bless him, hadn't felt the need to do the same. She sighed. "Okay, how about this, you get our clothes, and I'll pick up some food, and we'll eat in at the hotel."

"We could…"

"Nope." Claire was firm. "No place we can eat in here has your diet in mind, and I do not want to deal with cranky troll. If we eat down in New Trollmarket…" She glanced over at where June was. "Someone will be regaling everyone with news of her battle and pestering you to open the Forge."

"Battle? June?"

"I'll tell you when I'm in—you know, better. I'll drop June off so _she_ can tell you, before I give you the true story of how your daughter emulated Deya the Deliverer against four teenage boys.

"I won, Daddy!" June said from her seat.

"Yea… I think I want to hear this story," Jim said.

* * *

A short drive later, and Claire and June pulled over by a hotel. One she'd never been at.

"It's really pink," June said. "With hearts."

 _Of course this would be the only hotel that was open._ Jim's big truck was there, the tinted windows letting him drive in the daytime. Okay, the tinted windows and the spellwork Claire had interwoven into his armor, something even Merlin had expressed some degree of approval of. Jim might not _enjoy_ sunlight, but armored up, he'd be free from the danger of _dying_ from it.

"Mom?" June asked. "Why would someone name a hotel the _Heart_ _'_ _s Aflame Hotel?_ "

"Because…" Claire took a deep breath. "It's a place where people go after they're married."

"But you and dad have been married forever."

"I…" Claire shook her head. "Yeah, we're just here until the house gets fixed." _Or tomorrow, whichever comes first. I don_ _'_ _t care if we have to drive into New York City, I'm not staying here with June one second more than we have to. Thank God Stacy is with the parents._ As she walked into the lobby, noticing the large number of men (and skimpily clad ladies) at the hotel bar, she amended her thoughts. _Please God, let June forget this before she talks to my parents._

Fortunately, the clerk was aware of their predicament, and the woman smiled at June, before she whispered to Claire.

"The suites to both sides of yours are empty, and the floor is mostly full of the more…" She coughed. " _Conventional_ guests. You shouldn't have to worry about being pestered and if someone does, feel free to call. I can't do anything about the floor above you, but they shouldn't be coming down to your floor."

"Thank you," Claire said as Jim walked into the room from one of the elevators.

A number of the skimpily clad ladies stared at him and got blissful expressions on their face. Claire shook her head at that. Jim had that effect on people— _His_ college days had been full of having to beat girls off with a stick who didn't understand "I'm married."

"Claire, I'm sorry," Jim said, in full-on _there is no possible excuse for my failure_ mode.

"Well, we now know that you and Blinky… Probably shouldn't go into plumbing."

"Yeah." Jim relaxed at Claire's smile, then he looked down at June. "And what was this about a fight?"

"It was _great!_ There were like four bullies and they were kicking this kid and then I jumped the fence and screamed 'For Glory' and I broke one kid's nose and I got to use _rule three_ and—"

"Take a breath," Jim said. "And let's talk about this up in the room. I don't want to risk you admitting to any crimes in public."

"Good idea," Claire said. "Jim, we're very proud that she worked to help another child but perhaps a little more… _Strategic_ planning advice might be in order?"

Jim leaned over and kissed her, before he whispered. "So, suggesting maybe the battle…"

"I don't know," Claire confessed. "I just don't want June deciding that every evil she sees merits Rule Three."

"Mom, Dad, don't kiss _here!_ " June said, a mortified look on her face. "You're in public!"

"Right. Sorry." Claire shook her head. "I'll be back with the take out, from Garaks."

"Thanks, Honey," Jim said, and took June off with him. Claire took one last look around the garish lobby and sighed. _Well, it_ _'_ _s only for a day._

* * *

Getting to Garaks was fairly easy. The number of trolls above ground was still small, even though the sun was hidden behind clouds and it was almost nightfall in any case. The district was mostly staffed by those trolls who had taken advantage of the new order to gather human goods without the need to scavenge it. Even so, human tourists tended to come mostly in the daytime, when the place was sleepy, few stores were open, and it felt _safe_. Jim and Claire approved. Trolls tended to have a fairly physical response to annoying tourists, and a light whack from an annoyed troll didn't feel at all light to a human.

 _It_ _'_ _s only been ten or so years. How long have humans been learning to get along?_ Claire shook her head. Right now she was here for food.

And there was Garaks, the glowing image of a pizza, one half normal food, the other half studded with coins and socks, gleaming above his storefront. This store was a little crowded—Garak was a good cook for both humans and trolls, though you had to be certain you had the _right_ order.

"Lady Claire!" Garak said. "It is an honor!"

"It's an emergency," Claire said with a smile. Two number three's and a number four with extra chromium, please."

"I'll make them myself!"

Claire plunked herself down on a bench in front of one of windows facing the big stove, the heat keeping her from freezing as she waited for the pizza. Moments later, Garak had her three, big pizza's ready for her, the insulated boxes warm against her hands. She paid him (Garak though not adverse to traditional troll currency, had a very modern ATM reader on his counter), and took off to the car. It was time to get back to Jim. Claire put the pizza in the seat next to her, sat down, inserted the key.

Click. The lights flashed and died.

"OH, COME ON!" she said, and got out of the car, slamming the door, as she stomped to the front and opened the hood.

Claire knew many things about the arts of sorcery, of dark spells and bright rituals.

The engine technology of her 2026 Toyota was not something she knew much about, save for Jim grumping they'd almost entirely ended the reign of the tinkering home mechanic. The battery didn't even have recharge points, because it was supposed to never _need_ a recharge. If it was the battery. According to the dealer, these cars never broke down.

"Obviously, the dealer lied. I—"

"Trollhunter… Face me!"

"Oh for _God_ _'_ _s Sake! What now!"_ Claire shrieked, spinning on her feet, glaring at the Troll which had emerged from an alley, residents and tourists alike giving him a wide berth.

"It is I, Lorak, and face me that I might restore the glory of Gunmar—"

"Excuse me, who?"

"Lorak! Many have fallen beneath my blade and I—"

"No… I don't think so."

"What?"

"Your armor. It's pristine. No troll would ever knock an honorable dent out, which says you haven't actually fought in many battles. You're really aiming for the top, aren't you?"

"I—er, have _too_ fought in many battles. Too many to mention here, days worth of tales of my glorious victories!"

"Oh, don't worry!" Claire said. "See, you can help me!"

"Er-what?"

"I don't know how to fix my car…" Claire held out one hand, the shadowy form of the staff she'd forged herself (and not from someone's _hand_ , thank you very much), becoming solid. "…Or come up with the right words of wisdom for my daughter…" A globe of purplish flame began to grow in her free hand. "… Or even how to go back in time and have my warm _shower_ …" then she looked up and smiled, purple light dancing around her eyes. "But I _do_ know how to have fun dealing with young trolls who seem to have forgotten just who they're facing…" Then with a blaze of energy she moved forward.

"Wai—perhaps I could show mer— _NOT THE FACE!_ _"_

* * *

A few minutes later, a disheveled, but very happy looking Claire walked out of a portal in the hotel room, bearing three extra-large pizzas.

"Claire?" Jim said. "Where's the car?"

"Broken down in a parking lot by Garak's." She sighed. "We can have it towed tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to eat, have a hot shower and _sleep._ "

The meal was good, save for when June tried to sneak some of Jim's food.

"June, you can eat it, but remember the consequences." Claire stared at her daughter. June frowned, then ostentatiously started eating her own pizza.

Later, June had left for her own room, where she promptly vanished into her own online world, no doubt talking to her friends. Jim had his own phone out and glanced up at Claire.

"Know anything about a troll that just locked _himself_ into a jailcell and is refusing to come out?"

"Maybe…" Claire said. "But, I can think of a more important fact. June is in her room, in her own little world, and we have a shower. Granted, you and I would be in close quarters…" She ran one finger down Jim's chest. "But…"

"Sometimes close quarters, getting squished together can be…" Jim's voice was deeper. "Very, very fun."

"So what are we waiting for?" Claire asked. "I would dearly love my _warm shower_ with my _loving and energetic_ husband and we _are_ in a hotel that caters to such actions…"

Jim's laugh was almost a growl as he casually scooped his petite wife up and bore her over to the bathroom.

And Claire was right. It was cramped.

And Jim was right. It was _very_ fun.

Later that night, June was asleep in her room, and Jim and Claire were in bed, Claire snuggling up with Jim in her comfortable nightgown. "Okay, the day has turned out better."

"They think they'll have the water and power back by tomorrow," Jim said softly. "They'll need to do more work, but we can move back in."

"Good. Hopefully we'll have no more—"

"RIDE ME LIKE A MARE IN HEAT!" The shrieked words penetrated through the ceiling like it wasn't even there. Claire and Jim looked up, eyes wide. "YEAH! HARDER! HARDER, MAKE CERTAIN I CAN CUT'EM OFF AT THE PASS!" The sound of thumping and banging filled the room, as the light fixture started to sway. "YEE-HAW!"

"I hope June sleeps through that…" Claire muttered.

"June can sleep through a category five," Jim said. Now other voices joined the first one, and the banging and thumping got louder.

"Well, I guess we have entertainment," Claire said. Then, a terrible thought struck her. "This suite has two smaller bedrooms, right?"

"Yeah. June's in the first."

"Let's move."

"Why, those beds are small."

"Because I don't want the gang up there to collapse their floor and end up in _our_ bed."

Jim blinked. "That's…"

"House. Potion. Car. School." Claire said. Then she paused. "Two doors between us and June so we'll have ample warning of any sudden intrusions, in case we decide to get… frisky. Again."

"I think your argument has a good point behind it," Jim said as Claire rubbed his horns. "Let's go."

"Yep."

But Claire didn't take her eyes off the ceiling until they were safely out of the room.

Just in case.

End


	11. College Days 1

_Here I am, college_. Jim frowned. Most of his friends from high school had already graduated. But first the move to New Trollmarket, then June, then Claire and her BA (completed in two years, and top student in the school. Jim was proud. Not surprised, but still proud), and three years getting everything settled down.

So here he was at 23, a freshman, taking night classes. There were ways to protect him from the sun, but none of them were _comfortable._ Even the enchantments Claire had managed to work upon his armor just made the sun a tolerable agony.

Not something he'd willingly expose himself to.

So here he was, close to sunset, with a nice overcast sky keeping things looking comfortable outside of the window, really wanting to be anywhere else.

Bular Slayer, Gunmar's Bane… and still terrified of his adviser.

"So, Mr. Lake-Nunez," the small woman said, looking up at a seated Jim. "I see you're looking at a pre-law course program. Are you intending on becoming a lawyer?"

"No, Ms. Chin," Jim said. "But the thing is, the issues between trolls and humans, especially the legal framework—well, people keep _asking_ me questions and bringing up laws and I really think it'd be a good idea if I had a better answer than "let me Google it." He shrugged. "I know I have my GED and some online coursework, but it really doesn't match what an actual _teacher_ could give me."

She smiled. "I see. In that case, we probably will not have the same course selections that you'd be taking if you intended on going for later training as an attorney. What does your wife think?"

"Probably that I'm a slacker. She's started her doctorate." _In addition to raising Stacy and June—well, I_ _'_ _m helping there._

"Physics. It seems rather…"

"Weird for America's only 'sorceress?'" Jim shrugged. "Claire thinks that magic and science _have_ to be linked at some point. They both describe the universe, after all, just in different ways. So… She wants to figure out how to link them and explain how they interact."

"Your wife wishes to create a true Unified Theory?" Chin looked at Jim from over her spectacles. "Well, she doesn't aim low."

"No, Ms. Chin. Claire _never_ does that."

* * *

And with that meeting concluded, Jim was walking down the sidewalk to his first class since Arcadia. There were students out and about, some of them leaving day classes, others heading to the evening and night classes that Jim would be attending.

And more than a few camera phones were out taking pictures of the world's only half troll, walking in his battered jacket, shirt and jeans.

Not as many as there might have been— Jim had been something of a fixture during Claire's BA classes, which also had the benefit of ensuring that most of the "he's a demon come to take our souls" set moved on to something else, and Jim was around enough that Newerk citizens had become mostly apathetic to him and the few other trolls who were starting to have more interaction with humans.

Or rather, they were making certain to not disgrace their proud forbears, who proclaimed themselves to be unfazed by anything.

"So I thought I heard rumors of a monster going to school!"

Jim blinked. "Mitch?"

"Yeah," the battered forty-year-old fell into step with him. "So, GED not good enough for you?"

"Well, I can't be running around saving the world _all_ the time…" Jim said. "How are you?"

"Taking night school. The missus wants me out of her hair and an MA looks good when you're going for promotion. What do you think? Detective sound good on me?"

"She wants you out of the squad car." Jim frowned. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, wasn't your fault that the rookie charged in and set off the troll." Mitch rotated his arm. "Besides, healed up good as new."

 _Rookie. He was older than I am._

"I—"

"DEMON!" Jim looked up and groaned. The woman in front of them was wearing a dress, waving a sign with Jim's face, photoshopped to have a leering, sadistic look on it. At her feet was a big purse.

Or maybe it wasn't photoshopped and they'd just caught him on that day when he'd first learned about why everyone on the East Coast hated snow when their wife needed the driveway dug out.

"Oh for—" Jim shook his head as a coed bumped into his rear. "Sorry," he told the girl, who was staring at the glaring woman.

"What's her problem?" the girl asked.

"Medical condition," Mitch said. "A stick up her ass. Not even modern science can remove it."

"Mitch…" Jim groaned.

"Only the lost consort with the Devil!" the woman shouted again, dropping her sign.

 _Great. First day of class and she_ _'_ _s going to try and beat me up. What part of_ thrown through a wall and survive _didn_ _'_ _t you see, lady?_ There were students gathering around them. So much for just fitting in.

 _"_ You must be stopped, _and_ I have the tool to do it!" she screamed, pulling open her purse and suddenly time went still as Jim saw the gunmetal shape within.

"Gun!" Mitch shouted, hand going for his service piece.

"No!" Jim yelled and _jumped_ forward, with the speed of years of fighting and practice, slamming the woman to the ground, gripping the hand with the weapon. "It's secure!"

"Chri—" Mitch bit off his obscenity. "Keep forgetting how fast you are. Hold her—there may be other toys in that big-ass purse." Jim lightly squeezed the woman's wrist and her hand opened.

"Fuck me." Mitch said as he pulled out the weapon.

A paint ball gun.

"You almost got shot for a _stunt!_ _"_ Jim snarled.

"The holy water would have burned your unclean skin!" She screeched.

"You mean, this holy water?" Jim asked, raising his hand, the skin wet where some of the paint-ball rounds had been crushed. "The first week after I went public, some lunatic loaded up an old style water fire-extinguisher with holy water and doused me. It doesn't work."

"Demon! I will—"

"Yeah, yeah, you've got a right to remain silent. Exercise it." Mitch had his phone out and before long a pair of campus police showed up.

"Her." The senior partner shook his head. "Kicked her off yesterday for hassling students."

"Yeah, this goes a bit beyond hassling," Jim said. "She could have been _killed_."

"I will return!" the woman said as she was cuffed.

"Not for a while," Mitch said. "Shoulda done your research. Using a paintball gun or other replica weapon in such a way that it might be mistaken for a real weapon is a class d felony. Hope you're up on your jailhouse bible study."

"WHAT!" she screeched as she was being manhandled into the car.

"You know it won't come to that," Jim murmured.

"Sure. At most she's gonna get a misdemeanor charge, unless she _really_ pisses the DA off. But you know, thinking about spending a few years in prison is good for the soul. Especially a stupid soul."

"Yeah," Jim said as the officers came back, their notebooks out. "We're gonna be late for class."

 _Well, at least I can say my first day was memorable_ _…_


End file.
